


Happy Holidays

by starhawk2005



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drabble, Gen, Gen Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-14
Updated: 2012-09-14
Packaged: 2017-11-14 06:00:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/512076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starhawk2005/pseuds/starhawk2005
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean’s face lights up, but Sammy’s – of course – is sullen and suspicious.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy Holidays

“Merry Christmas, Sam, Dean,” John says as the boys wander into the living room of the small cabin they’re staying in this week.

Dean’s face lights up, but Sammy’s – of course – is sullen and suspicious. John knows they expected this Christmas to be like the last three ones; either postponed or cancelled entirely. John regrets that, but he’s always felt that the job was more important. Lives are depending on him, and what’s a few presents delivered on time, compared to that?

And yet, he still feels guilty. This is his family, uprooted and homeless, that is suffering for the choices he’s made. The least he can do, he knows, is make sure they have some moments of happiness, some good memories they can hold onto as they get older. Sometimes, John tells himself (though not always successfully), he has to let the responsibility fall onto another hunter.

So this year, he’s made an effort. 

“Merry Christmas, Dad,” Dean says, beaming. He’s getting bigger, John notices with another pang of guilt. Dean’s hair is too long, and his pants and shirt are getting too small. Something has to change, and John decides that’ll be his New Year’s resolution.

Sam, predictably, says nothing. He just hangs back, eying John, obviously waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Dean glares at Sam, obviously wondering if John will say anything if Dean pokes his brother hard in the ribs. But instead he turns and examines the small, ragged tree…and then the beer can wreath John hung on the inside of the door when he snuck in earlier. Dean’s eyes widen as he studies it. “Cool!”

John grins, though it feels alien on his face. When’s the last time he smiled?....Yeah, things’ll have to change. “Thought you’d like it. Here, come see what Santa brought you.”

“There is no Santa,” Dean scoffs, but his eyes sparkle as he comes and takes the small, heavy package from his Dad’s hand.

“C’mon, Sammy, this is for you,” John urges, holding out a smaller, lighter package.

Sam slinks forward, though he looks a little more at ease now. He takes the gift from his father, opening it slowly.

“Oh, this is _awesome_! Thank you, Dad!” Dean throws his arms around John and hugs him, the revolver clutched tightly in his right hand.

“No bullets yet,” John warns him. “Not til we can go out on the practice range.”

“Okay, Dad,” Dean agrees peaceably. “What did you get, squirt?” he asks, poking Sam at last.

“Oh wow,” Sam says, finally working the last of the paper off the Swiss Army knife. “Thanks, Dad!”

“My Dad gave me one like that, when I was about your age. Got me out of some scrapes, that’s for sure. Figured it was time to give you one.” John’s glad when Sam comes up to hug him, though the odd expression on Sam’s face puzzles him.

“What’s up, Sammy?” he asks when Sam steps back from the thank-you hug.

“Well,” Sammy drops his eyes, shuffles from foot to foot. “I didn’t get _you_ anything, Dad. I’m sorry.”

Dean looks similarly downcast, but of course John could care less about gift exchanges.

“Don’t worry about it, son. The best gift is being here with the two of you.” He hugs them both again, one at a time, kissing the top of their heads – when was the last time he did _that_ , either? – and then he settles himself back on the couch, lifting the bag of fast food from the floor, onto the creaky wooden coffee table. “Christmas dinner is served. Sorry about the lack of turkey, KFC isn’t really known for it,” John apologizes with a smile.

But the boys don’t seem to mind. Curled up next to him on the couch, eating and watching the game, it’s the best Christmas they’ve had in years. John resolves that it won’t be their last.


End file.
